A/N: A million thanks for all the kind reviews (feel free to leave criticism too, you know--I won't hate you for it). Don't expect all chapters to come quickly. This is the second last of ones I already have written, as I didn't post this immediately when I wrote it. But I'm glad people are enjoying it.

I'm still having a bit of trouble with Sean's characterisation. As pointed out, I have a tendency toward writing with my own vocabulary, not, say, Sean's. So, I'm working on it.

Fortune Presents Gifts Not According to the Book

I love her. God, I love her.

The sad thing is, I don't think I'll ever be able to be completely honest with Ellie. How am I supposed to tell her that hurting her was the best thing I ever did? That leaving her, that going back to Wasaga, changed my life? You just don't tell someone something like that. If I had to do it over again, I don't know if I could. But I'm glad it happened as it did.

Wasaga Beach was boring, and that's exactly what I needed. Mom and Dad were pretty sober, surprisingly enough and after a week of lounging around and watching late-night television, the boredom got to me. I got myself back in school.

It was terrifying the first day. I don't like to admit I'm scared of anything, but I was shaking when I walked into the crumbling halls. I was shaking the next day, too, and the day after that but not quite as badly, and eventually I got more or less comfortable with the place. And, even more amazing than my parents' sobriety, I had brains.

I graduated with honours. I still don't believe the words when I repeat them to myself. I even got a scholarship. Just an entrance one, mind you, but a thousand dollars isn't anything to laugh at. And, what's more, I actually used the scholarship. Not only was I the first person in my family to graduate, but I was the first to go to college. Crazy how things turn out--I'm where I am, and Ellie's, well, not.

But all of this--all of it is off-limits to her. I can't explain it. All she knows is that I'm in town on business. She doesn't know that I'm taking the semester off school or that I'm pursuing a degree in education and following in Mr. Ehl's footsteps. She doesn't know... she doesn't know that I'm happy.

And I am happy, that's the amazing thing. I never thought I'd be where I am. I never thought that I'd willingly be putting myself through school--that I'd be subjecting myself to a future in the same confines I'd once rejected. I never thought that despite the occasional nightmares, I could get past what happened years ago.

I'd forgotten what I was missing, though, until I laid eyes upon her. And now I know, and I know I won't be happy again without her in my life.

I've given up all pretence of being here for a car auction. I've informed the motel management I'm staying here for awhile, and I'm getting a cut-rate to prove it. Thoughts of renting an apartment have even entered my mind, although I've pushed them away before my stupid side can latch onto them.

I haven't seen her since we slept together. I've been in that strip joint for the past three days, and I know she'll be there tonight. If she's not, she'll lose her job (amazing the information you can get when you pretend to be someone you're not--someone who is entitled to the information), and I know she won't risk it. So I'll be there, front and centre, if only to make sure she's okay.

They probably think by now that I'm the horniest bastard in all of Toronto, but truthfully, strippers have never done a thing for me. I need love. I'm not ruled by my hormones. People are always surprised to learn that, but to me, it's second nature.

Emma... I loved Emma. I loved her a lot but we were never comfortable around each other. She was perfect, or she wanted to be perfect, and I'm not perfect. I'll never be perfect. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't live up to her standards. Maybe she didn't expect me to, but how could I not try? Last I heard, she and Toby are dating anyway. Yes, Emma and Toby, in a romantic relationship. Don't ask me--I can't explain it.

Ellie, though, she never expected anything. Well, okay, that's not entirely true. She expected the best from me, but it was my best she wanted--not the best, if you get the difference. Me. She didn't care if I screwed up; she just cared that I tried to make it better.

People think she stopped cutting because of me, but she didn't. I kept in touch with Craig for a few years, and I made him promise not to tell because I didn't want to hurt anyone, but all through high school, she was okay--or so he said, and I have no reason to doubt him. She stopped because she was strong, not to please me or because I loved her enough to heal her. But it scares me to wonder what happened to bring her back down to hell. I saw her arms so much closer as we tumbled together between the sheets and I almost cried. I can't understand what would make her hurt so badly as to destroy herself. I never could.

I want to apologise to her for the sex. I know what we did wasn't exactly right. But I can't say I'm sorry because I'm not. It might not have been technically right, but it sure as hell didn't feel wrong. I love her. She still loves me. How is that anything but right?

Ah, yes, The Husband. Goddamn The Husband.